


The Pains of a Lackey

by Rocketman23



Series: Cuphead Prompts [1]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Gen, King Dice really doesn't like wheezy haha, angst with no comfort, swears, wheezy tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 22:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocketman23/pseuds/Rocketman23
Summary: sentence prompt "how are you still standing!?"aka; king dice sets out to get a contract from one of the many debtors but ends having some of his own cards played and consequently gets hurt.





	The Pains of a Lackey

The casino was abuzz with noise and laughter, thick smoke making a haze of the main floor. Breathing it in he coughed slightly, a hand clapping over his mouth as his irritated lungs made to spasm again, he had to be silent. Heaven and hell help him if anyone saw him like this. As it turned, nobody did. So absorbed in betting away their lives and riches it seemed almost foolish to sneak around them all but, he learned the hard way, that it was always best to stay on the cautious side. The clatter of chips and the ringing of the machines, a song for his ears, their sounds wrapping him in a comforting embrace. After that last fight, he wasn’t too sure he’d make it back to the casino in one piece. As lady luck saw fit however, he had managed to crawl back to the cavern the casino was nestled in, partially scorched contract in hand. The devil was going to have his skin for messing the rolled up parchment in his shaking hands.

It takes him a little while to reach the staff room, which thanks to whatever deity that still felt keeping an eye on the king was necessary, had blessed him with it being empty. He grabs a discarded dish cloth and stalks over to the small vanity mirror left for the employees to gawk at themselves. Now, he would have gone to his own quarters, had he the strength that is but the gash that had marked itself against Dice’s stark skin had left him feeling wobbly and so the staffroom, small and diminished compared to his own room, would have to make do for now. 

Upon closer inspection of his face, which was horrific in his eyes, he noticed the various cuts and bruises he sported. At least his die wasn’t permanently damaged this time around. His makeup, painstakingly taking hours for him to apply this morning, was smudged and ruined. He looked an absolute mess. He wets the dishcloth and cleans away the blood and leftover makeup. He thinks maybe he should get the cut on his eyebrow stitched. He sighs, he really needed to sort his leg out, small rivulets of blood had reached his ankle and started to form the beginnings of a puddle on the white tiled floor. Great. 

In most situations he would see taking his pants off in a place where people were likely to frequent a very ineloquent and crude thing to do but he was left with little choice, the tight cut of the fabric around his thighs making it impossible to roll the trousers up. He huffs, beginning to get more agitated by the second, when much to his irritation, the click of the breakroom door breaks the silence and in walks wheezy.

_Of course it had to be wheezy of all people…_

For a moment, the man in question just stares at King Dices form, bloodied and bruised in so many places. Dice attempts to straighten himself, refusing to look weak in front of the talking cigar. This doesn’t go to plan, as when Dice places his weight on his cut leg he cripples slightly, hissing with pain.

“how the fuck are you still standing?!” is the harsh reply of the large man as he hastily moves to Dice’s side to direct him towards the plush sofa, located to the side of the room. Dice notices the undertones of amusement in wheezy’s husky voice. This further irritates him.

“Get off!” Dice snaps, insulted by the fact that wheezy thought he was in need of any assistance, he could handle himself quite well, thank you very much. “I can take care of myself” Dice promptly follows, his pride reigning over his pain as he saunters (well, tries to at least) towards the sofa before seating himself down, slowly. 

“Stubborn ass as always aint’cha?” wheezy grouches, a grimace pulling at his usual sneer but Dice is ignoring the larger man’s complaint, propping his head on his hand and looking away from the rebuke. Wheezy continues grouching the odd words of “stubborn”, “fool” and “ why do I put up with this shit?” as he makes his way to the lower cabinets lining the wall, the tip of his cigar catching at the sink, making a faint grey of ash fall to the floor as he crouches down to fumble through multiple items. He emerges moments later, a roll of something white clasped in his brown hands.

“Here” he chucks the roll at Dice, who upon hearing wheezy’s voice reels his head to the side, disdain taking short hold of his features to a look of surprise as he catches the roll between his torn gloved hands.

“I’ll make sure nobody comes in ‘ere for another 10 minutes tops!” he proclaims, shaking his head as he eyes Dice over again. Before Dice has a chance to throw some insult after the gruff man, wheezy leaves the room, a trail of smoke closely following behind. Dice scowls at his quick exit, he didn’t need his help, and he could take care of himself. He slides his pants off, cleans his wound with teeth clenched and shaking hands, binds it in the bandaging and with some difficulty, pulls his tattered pants back on. 

Dice sighs again, mentally preparing himself for the devils onslaught, true he got the contract but it was a little torn and scorched in places and Dice had taken his sweet time getting it to him. He stands and limps out of the breakroom, throwing the bloodied dishcloth in the bin and the roll of bandages on the small table. He gradually makes his way to the devils office, occasionally pausing to rest against the casino wall and gain his bearings. The pain was starting to numb his left leg and made it all the more difficult to make haste, he only hopes the devil doesn’t keep him long. With growing difficulty and the rising pain growing throughout his body, finally Dice makes it to the devils office. Great doors of richly blood dyed oak stand before him. He straightens his bowtie, posture erect and forces a comforting smile upon his lips and knocks twice upon the ancient wood.

**Author's Note:**

> did ya like this fic? if ya did please leave a kudos and comment below!!


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